


Not Drunk Enough

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [45]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alcohol, Banter, Family Bonding, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Needs a Hug, Team as Family, We talk about our feelings in this house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24075709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: The bathroom between Scotty and Leonard's quarters is more of a liquor cabinet than anything else at this point, which means when the crew needs a place to kick back and relax, their quarters become the obvious place. This, of course, means there's a reliable source of alcohol when the conversation turns to feelings and other sappy stuff.They might not need it tonight, though.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Enterprise Crew, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Hikaru Sulu, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Montgomery "Scotty" Scott, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Nyota Uhura, Pavel Chekov & Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 5
Kudos: 77





	Not Drunk Enough

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is a little later today! I had absolutely no executive function this morning and a final due two hours after I finally got out of bed so it's a little later!!!
> 
> good news is i'm all done now so we should be good

Fandom: Star Trek

Prompt: “You’re so important to me.”

* * *

On the Enterprise’s official schematic, it shows that the CMO’s quarters and the Chief of Engineering’s quarters share a bathroom. What they don’t show you is that it’s less of a bathroom at this point.

“So, we got the Saurian brandy, the Vulcan port, the Klingon _chech’tluth_ ,” Scotty muses, considering the large shelf occupying 75% of the space, not counting the toilet, sink, and shower, “what’re we missing?”

“If you’re telling me you forgot the whiskey,” Leonard grumbles, “I’m gonna drag your ass back to Earth myself.”

“Ah!” Scotty reaches into the depths of the shelf and withdraws a bottle of good old-fashioned Jack Daniel’s. “Found it!”

“Great. Now, let’s get these outta here. We’re keeping company waiting.”

The two of them stack the bottles—somewhat precariously, considering the interesting shapes of the glassware—and carry them into Leonard’s quarters.

“I ain’t need all this cushy nonsense,” the doctor complained to Jim when he first arrived, “an’ it’s so far from the med bay.”

“Listen,” Jim said, “I know you’re gonna end up on a cot in your office nine times outta ten, but you gotta have something to go home to.”

“My home ain’t ever gonna be in space, kid.”

“ _Bones,”_ Jim said, “come on. You don’t have to stay in them all the time, just…allow yourself that?”

Leonard knew better than to argue when Jim got his head stuck like that. At this point, his quarters were effectively a more secure observation deck.

“Finally,” Uhura mutters, her legs kicked up over the arm of one couch, “thought you two got lost in there.”

“What with his organization of the damn thing,” Leonard grumbles, jabbing a thumb at Scotty, “we may as well have been.”

“Oi!” Sulu snickers at Scotty’s indignation. “I’ll have you know I run that shelf as well as I do our lassie!”

“Is that why she’s always on fire?”

“You better take that back, laddie,” Scotty warns, shaking a threatening finger at Sulu, “or I’ll—“

“You’ll what, wait for Jaylah to show up?”

“Enough,” Chekhov says, pouring himself a generous helping of whiskey, “I did not come here to listen to you two fight.”

“Here here.” Uhura sips at the _chech’tluth_ in a way that would make Klingons jealous. “We all know that the only reason Scotty is chief here is that any other more technologically advanced species took one look at the engine room and ran away screaming.”

“They’re just a buncha brainiacs with no sense of adventure.”

“Christ,” Leonard mutters, “why’re you in charge again?”

“Because our captain knows he’s gotta have someone like me in charge.” Scotty smirks. “I’m one of the only ones that can keep up with ‘im and what he wants down there.”

“That is correct,” Chekhov mutters, “I would not make it as Chief.”

“Nonsense, laddie, ya did great.”

“You didn’t do any worse than this ship does on a regular basis,” Sulu says, “considering.”

“Considering?”

“No, wait, man’s got a point.” Leonard scrubs a hand over his face. “Genetic superhumans, warmongering admirals, all that jazz.”

_“And all that jazz~”_

“You stop that.”

Sulu sticks his tongue out at Leonard. “Salty.”

“Over what?”

“Everything.”

“That’s how he does it!” Uhura raises her glass in a mock toast. “The grumpy doc with a heart of gold.”

“Shaddup,” Leonard grumbles into his drink, “you’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Uh huh.”

Leonard levels his ‘do not piss me off’ stare at Uhura who, of course, isn’t even fazed by it. Chekhov, though, on her other side, curls in on himself a little bit. When he catches Leonard’s gaze again, the doctor softens his look and gives the kid a little wink. It’s enough.

Scotty coughs into his fist. “Marshmallow.”

“Hey!”

“Yeah, come on, Scotty,” Sulu says, “you know it’s only the captain who gets to call him that.”

“Ah, yes,” Scotty says, raising his hands in surrender, “how could I forget.”

Chekhov giggles at them, downing his glass in one go. “Hey, you forgot the vodka.”

“Don’t you wanna slow down there, laddie?” Scotty raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Pasha,” Sulu says, bumping his shoulder, “you’re barely old enough to drink as it is.”

“You say that like you’re not the worst at holding your liquor out of the people in this room.”

“Lassie’s got a point.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leonard says, heaving himself to his feet, “I’ll have a look.”

Leaving the crew debating who’s the worst at holding their liquor—it’s definitely Sulu—he goes back to the definitely-not-a-liquor-cabinet and pokes around the shelf.

“I swear, Scotty,” he mutters, “this thing gets worse and worse every time I look at it.”

Doesn’t help that he’s got no idea what kind of system the man’s using.

“So,” Scotty calls from the other room, “we out?”

“What the hell kind of system is this?”

“The…normal kind?”

“No the hell it ain’t.”

“It’s probably right in front of your face!”

“Unless you keep the vodka in a bottle labeled ‘Romulan Fire-whiskey’ I ain’t think so.”

Hiding a smirk at Scotty’s indignant huff followed by laughter from everyone else, Leonard makes a tactical withdraw to the couch as Scotty storms into the bathroom, muttering something about ‘obvious’ and ‘idiot.’ Not necessarily in that order.

“Here,” Scotty says, sliding a bottle across the table, “drink up, laddie.”

“Thank you.” Chekhov deftly uncorks the bottle and raises it to his lips.

“Wait, hang on—“

It’s too late. Maintaining eye contact with Scotty, Chekhov drains half the bottle in one go, setting it down with an exaggerated ‘ah.’

Leonard bursts out laughing.

When he trails off, he notices all of them are staring at him, bewildered.

“What’re you lot lookin’ at?”

“I have never,” Uhura says, “ _ever_ seen you laugh like that.”

“Or heard it,” Sulu agrees.

“You look happy.” Chekhov smiles at him and shit he’s goin’ red, isn’t he.

“You should do it more often.”

“Maybe if I wasn’t surrounded by such unfunny bastards all the time I would,” Leonard grumbles in an attempt to save face but it’s too late. They know.

He sighs, motioning for the whiskey and topping up his glass. “I ain’t drunk enough for that conversation.”

“It’s not one we need to have,” Uhura assures, “we get it.”

“Plus,” Scotty teases, “we wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.”

“Yeah, yeah, shaddup,” Leonard mumbles. But no, now he’s gotta say this.

“Doctor?”

_Shit,_ kid, he’s gonna say it, there’s no need to guilt-trip him into it by sounding so unsure.

“You know I care about you lot, right?” He’s _really_ not drunk enough for this. “You’re…you’re so important to me.”

“We know, Leo,” Uhura says as the rest of them nod, “we care about you too.”

“I know.”

That’s quite enough of that sad sappy stuff for now.

“I have an idea!” Chekhov exchanges a look with Sulu and Uhura and wow that’s never gone anywhere good. “What do you think, Mister Scott?”

“You haven’t told me what it is, laddie.” Oh shit, now _Scotty’s_ got that gleam in his eye too. “Oh. Yeah, I like it.”

“Wait, what it— _oof._ ” Leonard just manages to put his glass down before he’s tackled onto the back of the couch by the rest of them. “Hey! Get off!”

“No,” Chekhov says brightly, “we will hug you now.”

“Become part of the cuddle pile.” _Where the heck is Sulu’s head?_ “Suffer with us.”

“You call this sufferin’?”

“Nah.” Uhura still manages to look regal…somehow. “But we are an emotional support crew.”

And of course, the door chime goes off and in steps Jim, whose eyes widen at the sight of his CMO being ferociously cuddled by three other members of his crew.

“Jim! Help me get them—“

“I am so _offended,_ ” Jim starts in that fake dramatic voice and _shit_ Leonard’s not going anywhere, “that you guys had a ‘hug Bones’ party and didn’t invite me.”

“Well then get over here,” Uhura says.

“No, Jim, don’t—“

Jim, of course, the infant, bounds over like it’s Christmas and cozies right in, wrapping his arms around _all_ of them—somehow—and nuzzling into Leonard’s shoulder like he’s a goddamn teddy bear.

“Hi, Bonesy.”

“What’re you lot think you’re doin’?”

“Hugging you.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because you are allowed to get hugs.”

“You lot are—“

“You do not let yourself be happy, Doctor,” and did someone tell Chekhov Leonard has a weakness for kids asking for things like that? “And we want to help you with that.”

None of them are drunk enough for this.

_But maybe,_ Leonard thinks as he gives in to the cuddles, feeling the warmth and pressure from his friends—his _family_ around him, listening to them strike up another conversation like this is completely normal, catching Jim’s eye and smiling at the content look on his face, _maybe that means we’ll remember it properly._

“Getting drunk on affection is _so_ much better, Bonesy,” Jim murmurs while the rest of them are distracted arguing about…something, “don’t you think?”

Leonard lets himself smile. Properly. “Yeah, Jim, I think it is.”

“Maybe you’ll let me have a look at that liquor cabinet you’re got going on there, then.”

“If you think for one second I’m lettin’ anywhere _near_ that stuff—“

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine.
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


End file.
